Wishing Well
by LM
Summary: Based on the earliest G3 toys. Young Queen Sunsparkle is determined to save her kingdom . . . using any means necessary.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

* * *

_  
To SUNSPARKLE, respected Queen and Sole Ruler of the Settlement of PONYVILLE, _

_MAJESTY, Queen of the Fief of Dream Valley (through the Grace of the Rainbow), sincerely regrets that she is unable to assist you with regards to your request. Though the doctrine of Forced Relocation was once accepted by the Citizens of our noble Fief, she must inform you that it has long ago been Discontinued. _

_May the Rainbow of Light shine on your path. _

_Respectfully, _

_MAJESTY  
Queen of Dream Valley  
Protector of the Golden Horseshoes  
Defender of the Realm  
By order of High Queen and the Council of Princesses  
By grace of the Rainbow  
"Peace through Prosperity" _

Sunsparkle sighed and pushed the parchment away, her hoof crumpling it as it ran abreast of the other letters. The names of the fiefs and rulers differed, but other than that they were very much the same, unique only in their differing styles of elegant calligraphy and the amount of flowery phrasing applied. The answer from Dreamquay had been five pages long, full of pomp and circumstance, but in the end it all boiled down to one word: NO.

"There's another letter for you."

Sunsparkle looked up to see a pony in the arched doorway of her study, gripping a rolled parchment in her mouth. The sunlight caught her purple and pink tresses, shining off them as she stood expectantly, waiting for a reply

"Thank you, Sweetberry," Sunsparkle said, accepting the missive.

Sweetberry nodded with a bored expression and half-closed eyes, then left with a flick of her curly tail.

Sunsparkle carefully set it on the worn, wooden desk and pulled loose the pale ribbon knotted around the paper. A white ribbon--it was from the North. She unrolled the scroll, not quite holding her breath as she read the untidy scrawl.

_Dear Sunsparkle, _

_Thanks for the compliment, but I'm not a king; my correct title is prefect. In any case, I don't have the authority to send anyone anywhere. Even if I could, I wouldn't; that's not the way we do things in the Waylands. Sorry, you're going to have to look for unicorns and pegasi somewhere else. Better yet, why don't YOU move? You aren't far from Dreamquay, if I'm not mistaken. _

_By the way, I don't know that "queen" is the appropriate title for someone "ruling" less than a dozen ponies. _

_Signed, _

_Stormfront  
The Waylands  
"Survival through Independence" _

_PS What kind of name is "Ponyville"? _

Sunsparkle reread the parchment, jealous of Stormfront, safe and isolated in the Waylands, not having to mind each word that fell from his mouth; no one in the wild Waylands understood royalty, or wanted it. It would have been easier if Ponyville were like that.

"Ponyville." Sunsparkle closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose with one purple hoof. "Thank you, Mother, for naming it Ponyville." Then she felt a flash of guilt mixed with anger; it was wrong to speak ill of the dead.

She stared out the open window, the crumbling arch of stone, feeling the wind sweep back her multi-colored mane as she watched yellow swallowtail butterflies dancing around the young, green maple leaves. It was funny. She had barely crossed the threshold of maturity, barely chosen her name and gained her adult colors and symbol, when it began. Sunsparkle, she had called herself, to signify independence from her mother, Star Shadow. But when her mother had sickened and died, she would have done anything to bring her back, to turn back the clock and just become Baby Star Shadow once more . . . just a little princess who could always count on Mommy to kiss the hurts away and make things right.

She had been merely a hedge princess, not a _Princess_ princess, of course. The Princesses, with a _capital_ P, were few in number (six to be exact, or five if you didn't count whichever one was currently acting as High Queen) and ruled over Ponyland as a whole. Subordinate to the High Queen and the jewel-symboled Princesses were the rulers of the various fiefs--usually queens, but the occasional king cropped up. (These were, after all, enlightened times.)

Thus Queen Majesty, Queen Oceandeep, and King Solaris ruled over their parcels of land under the watchful eyes of the High Queen and Royal Council. As had Queen Star Shadow. Once.

When Queen Star Shadow died, Sunsparkle had despaired, thinking that all was lost. The Queen--her mother!--dead, and her mother's subjects--now _her _subjects, and her barely an adult!--continued to sicken and die, just as the queen had . . . not from some witch's malice or a sorcerer's curse, but from a plague, a mere, mundane disease that wafted on every curling breeze, communicable and deadly. But perhaps it had gained some modicum of magic, for the unicorns were the first to topple, then the fragile pegasi, dropping from the sky, and finally the earthlings. Three-Day Drop, it was called, because the disease struck without warning, trapping its victims fevered nightmares for two days, followed by twenty-four hours of dull-eyed lethargy. Then death.

Raised to serve her subjects, Sunsparkle had pushed her grief aside, trying to herd her thoughts into order, trying to save her people. The port of Dreamquay and the more distant settlement of Dream Valley had always been cordial to the bustling citizens of tiny Ponyville (although it was no secret that they tended to snicker at the uninspired name as well as the main industry.) Sunsparkle remembered how--when she had been Baby Star Shadow--they had sent supplies and aid to help rebuild after a devastating earthquake. And a time even before that, when the river had flooded--Dreamquay had helped the smaller settlement sandbag and build up the banks.

Plagues, it turned out, were different. A plague with an incredibly high death rate did not inspire ponies to rush to your aid, but rather to rush _away_. This was particularly true when the fatalities were high amongst unicorns. Healers were usually unicorns, and even the most altruistic healer was reluctant to diagnose a disease in exchange for certain death.

Rather than aid, the panicked residents of Ponyville received harsh injunctions from the larger city-states. _Do not approach us,_ they warned. _You will not reach our borders alive._ So the ponies of Ponyville stayed in their proud-spired castle and died together.

Then as suddenly as it had started, the nightmare of dying friends and fallen comrades ceased. Not because of an eleventh hour cure, but simply because everyone who had proved vulnerable to the disease . . . was dead.

From the once burgeoning town of Ponyville, eleven ponies remained.

After the bodies had been burned and the numbness had receded and their grief had been spent, they began to adjust. Ponies were great survivors. They closed off the suddenly extemporaneous and empty wings of the castle, drifting with ghosts and cobwebs, and moved closer to one another to ward off the loneliness of lost friends, family, and lovers. Previously almost strangers, they learned about each other, their various mannerisms, their strengths, their weaknesses, their little quirks that drove one another crazy. Turning their backs on the outsiders who had failed them, they pulled together, laughed together, wept together. Life, they found, was not so bad.

For her part, Sunsparkle tried to continue her mother's legacy. This proved harder than she expected . . . simply because no one seemed to want to listen to her. She was, after all, the youngest pony left. Cotton Candy was kind to her, Dash was protective, Minty looked vaguely amused when she tried to order them to do this or that. He usually did what she asked, but did so as though he was doing her a favor rather than obeying her. They loved her, they liked her, but they always saw her as "the young one", not the queen. It grated.

Only Kimono, in his quiet clarity, judged her by her merits rather than her age. But when she told him that she was going to save them, he tilted his head, regarded her with puzzled eyes, and said only, "Don't you know? It's too late for that."

She didn't understand what he meant. They had the castle for protection. They had more than enough grazing ground. They could live there indefinitely, building up the herd and gradually expanding back into the now-abandoned parts of the castle.

And that was exactly what they did, for all of sixteen years. Ponies age slowly, so no one grew old or frail. Sunsparkle herself, much to her discouragement, was still considered an extremely young adult by pony standards. But she was no longer the youngest of them, at least; Cotton Candy gave birth to a filly a few months after the survivors gathered together . The trauma and excitement of birth sparked interest in any pony community due to the fact that ponies very seldom conceived. (A necessary evil, perhaps, for such a long-lived species.)

But although everyone loudly congratulated Cotton Candy in public (and speculated who the father might be in private), the other ponies seemed rather . . . well, blasé about the whole thing. Sunsparkle was puzzled. This was their first step to rebuilding the herd. Why was everyone so nonchalant?

It was Granite, a diplomat of Dreamquay who finally clarified the matter for her. Granite was a grey Clydesdale, a massive, rippling stallion who stood a head taller than the inhabitants of Ponyville (who were generally slight and short for Standard Ponies), but he had friendly, intelligent eyes. Officially, he had stopped by Ponyville out of respect and courtesy, as diplomats often do when they pass through land that does not belong to their patron. Unofficially, he visited out of kindness, since eleven ponies in a castle do not a kingdom make.

"You've done very well here," Granite told Queen Sunsparkle as he stood in the Common Room. It had a friendly air to it; the floor was a patchwork rainbow of overstuffed pillows and the shelves lining the room were filled with knick-knacks.

"Yes, very well indeed," Sunsparkle repeated, mentally adding, _considering no one would help us. _But it was not Granite's fault that Dreamquay had not swooped to the rescue, so she smiled calmly at him, as her mother would have done.

"Have you ever thought about joining one of the larger settlements?" the Clydesdale asked conversationally, glancing around, being careful not to let his gaze linger on the fraying tapestries.

"No; why would we?" Sunsparkle replied, surprised. "We have everything we need here."

The Clydesdale's eyes returned to her. "Well, yes, you have everything you need now. But sooner or later you'll have to go somewhere else, you know." He didn't say it spitefully, but as though it were a simple fact.

"Why?" asked Sunsparkle.

Granite changed the subject. "How many ponies live here? Eleven?"

Shocked and offended that he would be so crass as to bring it up, Sunsparkle nevertheless maintained a calm and haughty demeanor. "Twelve, with the new foal."

"Twelve, yes." Granite raised an eyebrow, regarding her in thoughtful silence for a minute. Finally he said, "Did you hear about Moonridge's recent troubles, out east?"

"Yes," she answered, feeling more puzzled than ever, not seeing a connection. "They had a clash with some sort of monsters, didn't they?"

"Trolls. They were nearly overrun by trolls. True trolls, not one of the hybrid groups. The earth ponies held them off valiantly, but it was a unicorn, Sunstreak, who finished them off. He created a flare of light, I believe, and they turned to stone. Shrieking as they did so, I'm told." He paused significantly. "Unicorns are very useful ponies, Queen Sunsparkle." He looked at her to make sure she understood. "These are dangerous times."

He left the next morning, polite and formal and without mentioning trolls or unicorns again. But he left Sunsparkle something to think about.

She thought about her mother's reign, the disasters they had staved off, and how many times the unicorns had used their powers to protect Ponyville or attack some threat, leaping with their horns lowered, awash in golden waves of magic. And the pegasi--fragile and thin-boned compared to other ponies, but still able to break a leg with a smack of their wings, not to mention perfect for reconnaissance, soaring so high they barely left shadows as they rolled on invisible currents, sweeping at the clouds with their hooves.

But the eleven remaining ponies--twelve, with the addition of Cotton Candy's baby--were all earthlings. Any children they had would be earthlings as well, since foals were born exact duplicates of their same-gender parent. Sooner or later some ghoulie or ghosty or long-leggety beastie would gravitate towards them, and then what would happen? No unicorns. No pegasi. Earthlings were swift and strong, but against magic--and Ponyland brimmed with magic, good and evil--swiftness and strength would not be enough.

At last Sunsparkle saw what everyone else in Ponyville had already known; they were living on borrowed time.


	2. Chapter 2

  


"Eeeeeee! Eeehehehehe!" Sunny Daze shrieked with laughter as she plunged through the waterlogged marsh, sending sprays of water over the gently waving reeds as her hooves skidded and splashed in the knee-deep water with every step. 

She swirled with a gasp of laughter, sending her sunset hair tumbling around her white face as she turned to confront Sparkleworks. He grinned as she swiveled to splash at him with her hind legs. The orange pony rose in a playful half-rear, then crashed his forehooves into the marsh, sending a small tsunami crashing over Sunny Daze. The white mare gasped in mock fury as her mane dripped in long, loose scraggles; then she leapt straight at Sparkleworks, bodychecking him and sending both ponies tumbling off their hooves. 

"Mercy! Mercy!" the stallion laughed, spluttering and snorting as Sunny Daze pinned him in the shallow water. 

She laughed. "You shouldn't start what you can't finish, Sparkleworks." 

"Maybe this was the finish I had in mind," he replied, half-closing his eyes as he smiled and leaned back, letting the water seep up his orange coat. 

Sunny Daze tilted her head coyly. "Maybe you shou--OW!" She grimaced suddenly, shaking one of her hind legs. 

"What's the matter?" Sparkleworks pushed himself to a sitting position. 

"There's something caught on my hoof," the white earthlng said with a distinctly annoyed expression. 

"Here, let me help . . ." Sparkleworks offered his shoulder. Whether it helped or not was questionable, but she certainly seemed to appreciate the support, leaning on him and giggling a little as they worked their way back to the soft, mossy banks. 

"Now!" she said as she pulled herself out of the water and shook out a cascade of sun-crystaled droplets out of her mane. "Ewwww, can you believe it?" she asked as she turned to see a limp, dripping vine tangled around her right hoof. 

"Here, let me." Sparkleworks pulled it off, pulling back his lips so that they wouldn't touch the rotted plantlife. Even so, he grimaced expressively after swiftly dropping the thing. 

"It looks like a tendril from one of the willows," Sunny Daze said, regarding it with interest. "It must have fallen in and--hey! What's that?" 

"What's what?" Sparkleworks was still scrubbing at his mouth. 

"That, silly!" With one white, water-stained hoof, Sunny Daze deftly nudged something away from the dead coil of plant. "It's a marble." 

"It's a rock," Sparkleworks said, not much impressed. 

"It's too round to be a rock. And look--it's carved! It's got carvings . . ." Sunny Daze scrubbed the dirt off the object by putting her hoof over it and gently rubbing it over the grass. 

"So it's a carved rock," Sparkleworks shrugged. 

"I like it," Sunny said. "I'm going to wash it and put it in the Common Room." She gently gripped it in her teeth and trotted off, her cheeks dimpling merrily. 

"But I thought maybe we could--" Sparkleworks started to trot after her persuasively, then slowed and turned around with a shrug. "Well, whatever . . ." 

"Having fun, Sparkleworks?" 

The orange pony turned to discover dark purple Kimono lying in the drifts of meadowgrass, regarding Sparkleworks with one lifted eyebrow. Beside him Minty lounged on his back, his pale pink mane and tail spread like banners beneath the cloud-wisped sky as he lay with his hooves outstretched. 

"What do you think _you're_ doing?" Sparkleworks asked. 

"I decided my hair would look better white," the green pony replied lazily. "So I'm bleaching it." 

"Which, oddly enough, incorporates your favorite activity," Kimono said drily. "Namely lying around doing nothing." 

"It's nice how it works out that way, isn't it?" Minty said. 

Kimono rolled his eyes a little, then turned his attention back to Sparkleworks. "Looks like you and Sunny were having a good time." 

"So what if we were?" 

"How's Wysteria these days?" 

"You shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong." 

_"You_ shouldn't do lots of things," the purple pony replied calmly. "But that's never stopped you before." 

"I don't need advice," Sparkleworks said, loftily tossing his head, "from a stallion named after a _dress."_

"A kimono isn't a dress, it's actually a--"

"I wouldn't talk if I were you, Sparks." Minty flopped his head across Kimono's flank, gazing upside-down at the orange pony. "What's your daughter's name again? Pork Pie?"

Sparkleworks flicked his tail in annoyance. "Don't blame _me_ for Cotton Candy's brat."

"Well, it sure wasn't me or Kimmy!" The green pony rolled over so that his front hooves were draped across Kimono's back as he aimed a playful nip at the purple stallion's ear.

Kimono flicked his ear out of reach. "Don't call me Kimmy."

"Motivate me," Minty said, grinning.

The purple stallion twisted his head around to look the green earthling in the eye. "I'll think up a horrible nickname for you," he said in a calm voice that was more a promise than a threat.

"You already call me Mint."

"Maybe I'll just use the last part of your name. 'Ty. Tee."

"Hmm . . . Mr. Tee . . . it has a certain ring to it . . ." Minty mused.

"Or perhaps Int."

"Oh, I like that. Int. Short for 'intelligent', right?"

"Short for interrupter," Sparkleworks said, distinctly disgruntled at being so suddenly and thoroughly ignored.

"Oh right, we were talking about your daughter . . ."

"SHE'S NOT MINE!"

Minty gave him smile full of disbelief. "Immaculate conception, then, I take it?"

"Well, what about Rainbow Dash?"

"What _about_ Rainbow Dash?" Now Kimono was giving him a look.

_"He's_ friendly towards Candy," the orange pony said meaningfully. "Oh sure, he may _act_ all vapid and innocent--"

"Merely the result of too many rainbowberries, I fear."

"It takes more than being friendly, Sparks," Minty informed him. "When a mommy pony and a daddy pony love each other very much--"

The orange pony stamped a hoof in frustration, swiveled with a swish of his dark pink tail, and marched away, head held high.

"There goes He-of-the-Unfettered-Ego," Minty commented rolling away from Kimono and stretching under the golden sun once more. 

"I wouldn't be concerned if his ego was the only unfettered part of him."

"Ho HO! I thought I was the only one who made jokes like that!"

"Well, we all have our off days." A slight smile curved Kimono's lips as he leaned back, lying beside Minty as he watched the clouds drift by.

  



	3. Chapter 3

With the gardners long perished, the castle garden was an overgrown tangle of wild roses and tangled thickets of nodding blooms. The flowering trees drooped low, weighed down by their fragrant burdens as well as drapes of deep green ivy which trailed in a clear, winding stream of water. It started in rivulets, welling from the mouth of a long-forgotten fountain worked into the castle wall, carved to look like a blank-eyed face. In the midst of it all, a rainbow-haired pony wandered among the banks of violets, treading gently with his powder blue hooves as he paused to munch on a flower here or there. His name was Rainbow Dash.

To describe him (as Sparkleworks had) as "vapid and innocent" was somewhat unkind, but also somewhat apt. Rainbow Dash was both extremely nice and extremely forgettable . . . the kind of pony who goes unnoticed at a party, and who no one can recall, one way or another, the day after. 

In addition, he had frequented Cotton Candy's café long before the ponies had discovered that her favorite ingredient, the dubious clusters of colorful fruit nicknamed "rainbowberries", caused short-term memory loss. As a result, he was now vague and forgetful as well as uninteresting. Really, the plague was the best thing that had ever happened to Rainbow Dash; only in a herd of a dozen or less ponies could he hope to be noticed. And even then, he seldom was. But Rainbow Dash was simply too dense to notice his exclusion or the way his compatriots tended to roll their eyes when he said something in his bright, cheerful tone. Sparkleworks said he was "tragically boring and mercifully stupid", and if that wasn't _entirely_ accurate, it was at least fairly close . . .

Rainbow Dash waded through the burbling stream, staining the cracked tilestones with wet, half-circle hoofprints when he reached the other side. Clipping along at a slow trot, avoiding the tendrils of ivy that caught at his heels, he worked his way over to the strawberry patch. The plants were of the wild variety, with tiny, dark red berries clustered around low, fluted leaves and cheerful white flowers. Not, Rainbow Dash thought with regret, as tasty as the rainbowberries, which Sunsparkle had quite determinedly dug out of the garden herself and then burned. But still tasty. He knelt on his forelegs, the better to look for the ripest berries (and avoid slugs), and was just about to help himself to a particularly juicy looking bunch when he found himself nose to nose with Sweetberry.

"Oh!" He pushed himself to all fours again. "Hello, 'Berry! Sweetberry," he amended hastily. Sweetberry hated nicknames.

The mulberry pony tilted her head with half-closed eyes, deciding whether to take offense. At last she said, "Hello Rainbow Dash."

"Hello!" he repeated. He was always nervous around Sweetberry, as she took offense easily if you said the wrong thing, and the list of things that offended her was too long for Rainbow Dash to easily remember. (Sparkleworks had tried to help. "Look, just shut up when she's around, okay? _Don't say anything._ Just accept that there's no way you can get on her good side; she's a total bi--" Unfortunately, Sweetberry had entered the room just then and with an expression like a summer storm, and Rainbow Dash had never discovered what else the orange stallion was going to say. Maybe if Rainbow Dash asked him again, now that Sparkleworks' black eye had mended . . .) 

Having lost his original train of thought, Rainbow Dash thought it was safest to start over again. "Hello!"

"Yes . . . you said that already."

"Did I?"

"Yes. Three times."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Ummmm . . ." He cast about for a safe subject. "Nice weather we're having!"

There was a long and significant pause before Sweetberry finally committed herself to an answer. "Yes." Another pause. "I'm going to go pick berries over _there,_ okay?"

"Okay," Rainbow Dash agreed in relief, watching her pick up her wicker basket (faintly stained purple on the interior) and move away with dainty, determined steps.

The blue pony was just about to return to the strawberries when something an energetic orange, pink, and white blurr collided with him. "Oops, sorry Dash!" the sun-symboled mare laughed, bouncing to her feet as Rainbow Dash shook his head, dazed. 

"Hi Sunny," he greeted her, pushing himself to a sitting position. "That's all right." He liked Sunny Daze, a cheerful, happy pony who generally bounded from one topic to another so quickly that he didn't have a chance to get lost. It was hardly like talking, for example, to Kimono. "What have you got there?" he added, noticing a telltale bulge in her cheek.

In answer, Sunny Daze leaned down and spit out something round that rolled on the weathered cobblestones. "That!" she giggled, showing remarkable enthusiasm for what looked (to Rainbow Dash) to be a saliva-covered rock.

"Ah . . . and that's . . . what is that?" He tilted his head.

"That's what I have to find out, silly." She winked. "I thought it was a marble, but Sparkleworks doesn't think so--"

"Ah. Sparkleworks. Right," Rainbow Dash said hastily.

"--but whatever it is, someone carved stuff on it, see?" 

"Hmm." Rainbow Dash did see--strange symbols wormed around the blue-grey stone, sunken into its surface. He didn't recognize any of them and just looking at them made him feel slightly dizzy, as though his eyes couldn't align to them properly. He broke his gaze away and said, "What are you going to do about it?"

"I thought I'd ask Sweetberry about it; she knows all about that kind of thing," Sunny Daze said breezily, picking up the object in her teeth and once again pushing it into her cheek with her tongue, thus giving her a lopsided chipmunk face.

"That's a good idea," Rainbow Dash agreed. Sweetberry tended the library, often complaining that no one would help her with the task, then coldly demanding if the others "didn't think she was doing a good enough job" if they offered to help. Rainbow Dash really didn't understand Sweetberry at all, but there was no denying she knew more about history and books than all the other Ponyvillians combined. Remembering his earlier conversation with her, he nodded across the garden, to an area hidden by a flowering hedge, and said, "I think she's over there." 

"Well, come on then!" Sunny Daze grinned over her shoulder.

"Oh." Rainbow Dash was taken aback at first, but then he returned her smile. "Okay."

Somewhat surprised, he watched as she shouldered her way through the bridal wreath hedge, catching minute white flowers in her tangle of sunset-shaded hair. Rainbow Dash himself, choosing to trot on the path _around_ the hedge, ended up on the other side at about the same time that Sunny Daze burst through, shaking off a shower of flowers and twigs. 

"Hmm," she said, glancing around at the strawberry beds clustered with red fruit even as they sent inquisitive, vine-like runners exploring the area around their domain. "Where is she?"

"Um . . ." Rainbow Dash looked around, noting a remarkable absence of mulberry ponies with purple and teal hair. "Well, she _was_ here," he said, feeling foolish.

"Well, maybe she's still around here _somewhere."_

The mare started down an old path, half-covered with soft velvet moss. Again the blue stallion followed, ducking under boughs of lilacs (deep purple, lavender, and white) that casually draped themselves in front of him, having long forgotten the feel of shears. The path meandered around banks of early blooming irises, tulips cupping their red petals skyward, and golden daffodils trumpeting the triumph of spring. Rainbow Dash closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet fragrances, and as a result ran smack into Sunny Daze when she suddenly stopped.

"It's a dead end," she said, not bothering to address the fact that he'd just rammed into her. "But it's worth it."

Rainbow Dash, taking a few steps back, had to agree. 

In front of them, half-wreathed by morning glories, was a small, old-fashioned well. Beside weathered stones, soft with moss and lichen, that formed the base of the well sat a splintered bucket. It had not been used in some time, judging from the blue flowers twined through its rusty handle. Everything in the little alcove was cool and hushed. The birds sang, but softly, almost reverently. 

"I've never been here before," Rainbow Dash said, somewhat surprised because he often wandered through the garden.

"It's a well," Sunny Daze said in delight, but softly for once. She reared to rest her front hooves against the grey-blue stones as she peered down. "A wishing well." 

Rainbow Dash, sticking his own head down to watch the distant gleam of ripples far below, had to agree that it probably was.

The clip-clop of hooves behind him shook him out of his reverie, and he looked towards the garden path to discover a young pony, all purple and pink and yellow, standing there. As usual, she was trying far too hard to look solemn.

"Have either of you seen Sweetberry?" Sunsparkle asked. "I really need to speak with her . . ."

  



	4. Chapter 4

  
Invoking the old Forced Relocation laws had been Sweetberry's suggestion, and though Sunsparkle shrewdly suspected it had been offered more to stop her from bothering Sweetberry with any more questions rather than out of a desire to help, the young queen didn't care, as long as it got results. 

In centuries past, before the Princesses had risen to unify the land, the city-states had wielded considerably more power. If they told their citizens to jump, they expected a response of "How high?" Amongst other considerable powers was the right to demand that ponies, as individuals or groups, relocate. This had been especially common among clusters of allied city-states. If one of them needed more healers, another would provide them. Or if more pegasi were required for reconnaissance, a ruler could ask another friendly monarch to send some over.

Of course, it had been ages since forced relocation had been common. Sunsparkle didn't think it had been used in millennia, at least. But according to Sweetberry's research, the law was still on the books and it didn't seem to conflict with any of the edicts of the High Queen and Royal Council, instead falling solely to the discretion of the lesser royalty of the individual fiefs. They _could_ send ponies over, if they so chose.

They had chosen not to.

Sunsparkle was not wholly surprised; even at the outset, she had recognized the plan as one of desperation. But she would not accept defeat. She would find with Sweetberry and grill her for more ideas.

Assuming she could find Sweetberry.

"She's around here somewhere," Rainbow Dash said, waving a hoof vaguely to indicate the immediate area. 

"Could you be more specific?" Sunsparkle asked without much hope.

"Well--" Dash began.

"Maybe she fell down the well," Sunny Daze giggled, rearing up to hook her front hooves over the lip of the well. "HELLOOOOOOO DOWN THERE!!" She paused, cocking her head, and a minute frown creased her forehead when she didn't hear an echo. "That's funny . . ."

"But she _was_ in the garden?" Sunsparkle persisted.

"Oh yes," Rainbow Dash nodded brightly. "She said hello--well, actually _I_ said hello . . . and then I said hello again . . . and then--"

"Ohhhh, look!" Sunny Daze interrupted, pointing a hoof. Sunsparkle turned to see what she was looking at and saw a large black bird cawing loudly as it flapped hastily over the garden, twisting its black wings to avoid the furious pecks of the screeching songbirds diving at it as they angrily pursued.

"That's a crow," Dash said.

"I _know_ it's a crow, silly!"

"Getting back to Sweetberry . . ." Sunsparkle said, trying to steer the conversation back on course.

"Oh . . . oh, right. She went off to pick berries. Around here. Somewhere." Rainbow Dash looked around, as though expecting the mulberry pony to suddenly pop out of the bushes. 

"Did you see her at the same time, Sunny?"

"Oh, I didn't see her at all," Sunny Daze explained. "I'm _looking_ for her, because I wanted to show her--Oh! Look, there he is again!"

Sure enough, a sleek black crow swooped low through the garden, lazily landing with a flourish on a nearby branch.

"It's not the same crow," Rainbow Dash said. Upon seeing the confusion on the faces of the other ponies, he explained further. "One crow flies around and makes a lot of noise so the little birds chase it, and then another crow follows and eats all their eggs while they're unguarded. That's what crows do."

"Oh! That's mean!" Sunny Daze said indignantly. 

Rainbow Dash looked somewhat mystified by this reaction. "It's what crows do," he repeated in confusion.

"I suppose it is," Sunsparkle murmured, regarding the bird. It tilted its head, regarding them with unsettlingly intelligent black eyes as it gripped the gently swaying branch. The young monarch followed its gaze and found herself looking at something small and inauspicious on the ground by Sunny's hooves. "What's that?"

"Isn't it neat?" the white pony asked, rolling it around under her hoof. "I _found_ it! I was playing with Sparkleworks in the marsh--"

(Inwardly Sunsparkle groaned, foreseeing yet another screaming match between Sparkleworks and Wysteria.)

"--and it's all _carved_ and things and it looks REALLY old and I thought to myself, 'Now who do I know who's really old?'--"

_Sweetberry is going to kill her,_ the magenta pony thought.

"--and of course BERRY is!" 

_And if she calls her 'Berry' to her face, she'll maim her first._ She leaned closer, if only to get a better look at the object that might well be the indirect cause of Sunny Daze's demise.

"Isn't it FANTASTIC?" the white pony giggled. "What do YOU think it is, Sunsparkle?"

"It's a rock."

"But look at all the carvings!"

"It's a carved rock," Sunsparkle said, unknowingly repeating Sparkleworks' assessment. "Well, I'm going to keep looking for Sweetberry."

"I'll go with you; I want to find her too!" Sunny Daze announced, pausing to pick up the stone and store it in one cheek again, making her resemble a lopsided chipmunk. Sunsparkle looked somewhat dubious about the company, but she didn't protest. Neither of them, as they trotted off, thought to say goodbye to Rainbow Dash.

He didn't mind, or even notice the lack. He was sitting quietly, thinking. He was not wise like Kimono or witty like Sparkleworks or learned like Sweetberry, but he sensed when things were wrong, and something was wrong now. No, wait, not _wrong_ exactly, but off-kilter. For a long time he remained there with the breeze whispering around him, absentmindedly chewing the same mouth full of rose petals over and over, trying hard to define the cause of his unease.

He knew part of it was the well, the quiet, covered wishing well that he had never seen before.

And part of it was the small, odd stone that had found Sunny Daze.

But there was something else too . . . even if he couldn't quite identify it . . . 

At last he identified it, and when he had he felt stupid and foolish and resolved not to bother anyone over such a normal, ordinary thing. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Like Sunsparkle, he had leaned in to get a better view of Sunny's prize, and when he had looked up again, the crow was gone. 

  



	5. Chapter 5

  
That night the ponies enjoyed raspberry tarts and clotted cream, courtesy of Cotton Candy, and melodrama, courtesy of Sparkleworks and Wysteria. They were sequestered in their private quarters, but as the small herd had set up the common area--formerly a lounge--just outside the bedrooms as their dining room, and as Wysteria and Sparkleworks were screaming at each other with abandon, the entire herd was privy to "dinner and a show", as Minty put it To which Kimono replied simply, "Same old song and dance." 

Indeed, it was a familiar (if extremely loud) tune to every member of the herd, and those gathered at the dinner table didn't pay it much mind as they talked around the disturbances. 

" . . . so by next week the daffodils should be perfect for salads, isn't that nice?" 

_"How COULD you?? How COULD you, you worthless, irresponsible--"_

"I thought they were out already, 'Candy. I'm sure I saw some by the brook . . ." 

_"How could I WHAT, you nagging harpy?"_

"Oh no, you don't want to eat those ones, Sunsparkle dear. They have bitter roots, yucky yucky! No, the best ones grow along the north wall of the castle and bloom later." 

_"A HARPY, am I??" _

"Yes, yes you ARE!!" 

"More sugar, Kimmy?" 

"Yes. And _please_ don't call me Kimmy." 

_"Well, better a harpy than a HUSSY like that little white showhorse you're always nosing around!!"_

"So, Sweetberry, I was hoping we could arrange another meeting to discuss--" 

"My schedule's full." 

"But--" 

"For months." 

_"She's not a HUSSY just because she shows some appreciation for a fine piece of stallion, you . . . you . . . you NAG!!"_

_"OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"_

A loud, sharp smack issued from the side rooms, in sync with a masculine yelp of pain. Moments later Wysteria dashed through the dining room in a purple, sobbing blur. 

"Oh, poor Wysty! I feel just _awful!"_ Sunny Daze proclaimed. "Pass the butter, would you, Razz?" 

Light purple Razzaroo obligingly pushed the butter dish towards the white pony as he glanced nervously after Wysteria. "Maybe someone should . . . y'know . . . go after her . . ." 

"Aw, they'll make up in a few days, 'Roo," Minty said through a delicate spray of crumbs. Razzaroo stifled a sigh at the way Minty addressed him; his brother had a real talent for coming up with the worst possible nicknames. 

"I could go after her," Sunny Daze suggested. "And talk things over. I'm _sure_ we can come to some kind of understanding--" 

No one else seemed to think this was a very good idea. 

"It's a nice thought, but I don't think it will help," Moonlight said kindly, stifling a yawn--not because she was bored, but because she was still waking up. The pale blue pony kept her own hours, and those hours were nocturnal more often than not. 

"It's a great idea . . . if you want to be CLOBBERED," the adolescent Pinkie Pie (who had been known as Baby Cotton Candy until the year before) said, heaving a heavy, annoyed sigh to express how very, very tiresome she found the situation. 

Minty opened his mouth and Razzaroo, guessing that his older sibling was going to work "Pork Pie" into his next comment, hurriedly said, "They're right. It won't help." 

"Oh, but I just feel so _responsible!_ I _have_ to go sort things out!" 

Nevertheless, she hadn't actually moved any closer to the door--or stood up at all, actually--by the time Rainbow Dash earnestly entreated, "Stay here, Sunny. It wasn't your fault. It was Sparkleworks'." 

_"What_ was Sparkleworks' fault?" someone growled, and Rainbow Dash straightened hasitly and guiltily as he regarded the orange stallion standing in the doorway, an ice pack draped melodramatically (but practically) over one eye. 

"Um . . . er . . . that is to say . . ." Dash began, but he gained a reprieve as Cotton Candy gasped at the sight of Sparkleworks' injury. 

"Oh, you poor thing!" The pink pony trotted over to him, full of concern. 

"It's all right," Sparkleworks muttered sulkily. 

"It's definitely _not_ all right," Cotton Candy said. "Look at the way it's swelling! That naughty little filly! He'll have a bruise for WEEKS," she told the table in general. 

"Yes, thank you, please stop talking about it. It hurts more when you talk about it," Sparkleworks said, trying to sidle away. It didn't work; Cotton Candy sidled with him. 

"Now, you _know_ it needs to be looked after. What we need are some strips of gauze and bandages--" 

"We don't. We really don't." 

"--and Q-tips and some of this _wonderful_ rainbowberry ointment that I--" 

"Leave me alone!" 

"Cotton Candy," Sunsparkle broke in sternly. "I thought I told you to get _rid_ of the rainbowberries." 

Cotton Candy paused. "But this is _different_, dear. This is _medicinal."_

"Rainbowberries?" Dash's ears perked up immediately. 

"No," Sunsparkle said loudly. _"No_ rainbowberries." 

"You heard the queen! No rainbowberries! No ointment! Hooves off!" Sparkleworks ducked behind Sunsparkle's chair in a complicated, skittish little dance intended to distance him from Cotton Candy. 

"But your poor little eye," Cotton Candy said persuasively, leaping around the chair to cut off the orange pony's avenue of escape. Meanwhile there was an audible thump as the young queen buried her head between her hooves. Razzaroo leaned over and offered a shy nuzzle of consolation. 

"Um . . . you know . . . Wysteria stormed through here a little bit ago and she looked pretty upset. Maybe you should go after her, Sparkleworks. _Hint hint,"_ Moonlight added in a hissing whisper. The orange stallion shot her a grateful look and announced in a loud, relieved voice. "Yes! That's a GOOD idea! Really GOOD!" He made a mad dash through the door, leaving it swinging wildly on its hinges as Cotton Candy blinked in surprise. 

"The lesser of two evils," Minty murmured under his breath. In a louder tone he added, "It was only a matter of time before they kicked and made up anyway." 

_"Kissed_ and made up," Kimono corrected. 

Minty quirked an eyebrow as the crash of broken pottery echoed through the room, originating from somewhere beyond the door. 

"Well, maybe there'll be _some_ kicking involved," Kimono conceded. 

Sunny Daze shook her head sadly. "Poor Sparkle! Pass the tart, would you?" 

"But you're right th--Ow! _Kimmy!"_

Sweetberry sighed, as much at Minty as the request, and pushed the dish of raspberry tart towards the white pony. 

Sunny Daze ladeled out a generous helping. "Thanks! Oh, by the way, 'Berry--" 

The other ponies collectively winced as Sweetberry's ears twitched backwards in annoyance. She really _did_ hate nicknames. 

"--I wanted to show you something. You know, Sunsparkle and I were LOOKING and LOOKING for you," she said around a mouthful of raspberries, not accusing but merely stating the facts. 

Sunsparkle finally raised her head from the table as she turned towards the mulberry pony. "Yes, I wanted to ask you--" 

"--about some boring political stuff," Sunny Daze summarized cheerfully. "But _I_ have something really neat to show you! Hang on!" The volume of Wysteria and Sparkleworks' shouts increased as the white mare pushed the door open and trotted out of the room. She returned a minute later, apparently having avoided the fighting "lovebirds." With great enthusiasm, she rolled the bulge in her cheek and spat something out on the table, causing Sweetberry to wrinkle her nose in disgust and Moonlight to squeal "Ewwww!" in a horrified tone. 

"See?" Sunny Daze said, smiling. 

"It's a _rock,"_ several ponies observed in unenthused unison. 

"But look at the MARKINGS!" 

"So it's a carved rock," Pinkie Pie said, flipping her pink mane back in adolescent boredom. 

"Covered with saliva," Minty said. 

"On the _table,"_ Kimono said, switching his tail. 

"You just aren't looking hard enough," Sunny Daze told them, using one of her front hooves to roll the stone back towards her. 

"I think it's very nice," Rainbow Dash said gallantly, if not truthfully. 

"Well, _I_ think it's stupid," Pinkie Pie said with an unpleasant grimace. 

"Pinkie!" her mother, Cotton Candy, gasped with stern, shocked disapproval. Pinkie Pie's face flushed to red as she stared at the tabletop and muttered something incoherent, embarrassed, and angry under her breath. Satisfied that Pinkie was appropriately chastised, Cotton Candy turned to Sunny Daze with a smile. "It's very nice, dear, but don't you think the table isn't _quite_ the best place for it?" 

With a slight frown at Pinkie Pie, Sunny Daze at last removed the odd pebble, placing it in a delicate blue-scrolled vase on the mantle nearby for safe keeping. 

"Well!" she said brightly upon taking her seat again. "Anyway! Did you know we have a wishing well in the gardens?" 

"Really? I've never noticed one before," Razzaroo said. 

"Me neither," said Moonlight. 

"It has flowers all over it," Sunny Daze said. "Like a waterfall." 

"I hope one of those doesn't pop up next," Minty said, raising a muzzle now stained with raspberries. "We'll be flooded." 

As the ponies conversed, Sunsparkle turned in her chair. "Sweetberry, I wanted to ask you about some ideas I've had for--Sweetberry?" 

But Sweetberry was not attending, gazing as she was at the vase in the corner with thoughtful, hooded eyes. 

  



	6. Chapter 6

  
Sunsparkle woke early the next morning, as she always did, although there was never any need to. Despite the rigors of self-sufficiency, the herd was so small that there was always plenty of time to do nothing productive, or nothing at all. But she was, after all, the Queen and she felt she should set a good example. Not that there was usually anyone else up to set an example _for_, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered more than anything.

In any case she sat up, stretching, letting the blue silk of her coverlet pool around her hooves as she slid off her plush and cushioned pallet and shook off the sleep clinging fuzzily in the corners of her mind. Shafts of sunlight poured into the room, the golden glow spilling onto the floor as it mimicked the intricate designs gridded into the window. There were three windows on the east side of the room, one on the left with a rearing unicorn, one on the right with a rearing earthen, and the center window displaying a pegasus from the front, its majestic glass wings spread in glory. 

But dark shapes flitted outside, breaking the bars of sunlight as they swirled and beat against the glass, rattling the windowpanes. Sunsparkle sighed and pushed open the middle window, sending the flight of songbirds whirling around her head, shrilly scolding her before they flitted back to land on the stone ledge running the length of the window. Without looking, they rearranged their wings on their backs in neat little shuffles, first crossing right over left, then left over right, all the while tilting their heads to regard her expectantly. 

"You are spoiled," she told them as she tipped a cup of various sized seeds (kept in a tin under her desk) onto the ledge. The blue jays and magpies greedily pushed and pecked the smaller birds out of the way in their haste to be first, still failing to realize that there was enough for everyone . . . and that their wingbeats and the steps of their scaly feet scattered the seed to the ground, where the sparrows and chickadees dove to retrieve them. 

"There's no sense fighting. You're all in it together," Sunsparkle told the blue jay, but he just chattered cockily at her and raised his blue crest before stealing a sunflower seed out from under the cardinal's beak. 

Sunsparkle shook her head at their antics, closing the window slowly, being careful not to catch any stray feathers in it. She couldn't stop thinking about it. _It._ That stone. 

She didn't know why she couldn't get it out of her head. After all, it was just a rock, unpretentious and ordinary aside from the markings on it, undoubtedly carved on there by some bored elf with the luxury of hands and too much time on them. It wasn't even a pretty color; it was grey, dull grey. Now if it had been a _diamond_ that size, or a ruby, that would have been something special. Or even if it had been a regular rock with an interesting shade like pearl-white or jade-green. But no, it was grey. It was a rock. 

And she was _still_ thinking about it. 

She flicked her multi-colored tail in annoyance and stepped into the hall. Unusually, someone was up at this hour, coming down the hallway towards her. 

"'Lo, Sunsparkle," the pale blue pony greeted her. 

"Good morning, Moonlight," Sunsparkle said, squashing a very unqueenly urge to add 'Good morning, sunshine!', just for contrast. "Up late?" 

She nodded, hiding a yawn behind her blue hoof. From what Sunsparkle had gathered, even before the plague Moonlight had been nocturnal, staring alone at the stars while other ponies were nestled in their dreams. Sunsparkle remembered being at the age where adults still towered above her and hearing her mother say, in passing, that Moonlight was "moon-kissed." She had never been able to dredge up the nerve to mention the exchange to Moonlight, or to ask her what it meant. 

"I was up on the north tower last night, reading the stars," Moonlight said, shaking the purple-pink pony out of her reverie. "Something is set to happen, but I don't know what." 

"Something good?" the young queen asked cautiously. "Or something bad?" 

"I couldn't tell," answered Moonlight, cheerful and matter-of-fact. "Anyway, everything's good for someone. And bad. Well, I'm off to bed." 

"See you at supper then," Sunsparkle said. (Supper would serve as Moonlight's breakfast.) 

"Supper," the yellow-maned pony agreed, her head nodding as she trotted towards her room. 

Sunsparkle mulled over Moonlight's words as she walked down the hall, her hooves clipping against the stone. In her youth she had seen the mystic ponies of her mother's court, pretentious and self-important and always making vague, mysterious passes at the future, while skillfully dodging specific questions, lest "fate be thrown off balance." But Moonlight was practical and friendly and had told the other survivors what most of them had suspected; astrology was inexact at the best of times. Wars didn't depend on which constellation Mars was in and fate, if there was such a thing, didn't give a flying clod of manure whether Mercury was rising or not. 

"It's not like reading a book," the blue mare had explained. "It's sort of like . . . you're galloping really fast and you catch sight of something out of the corner of your eye, you might get an impression of what it looks like, what it is. But you aren't going to know every little detail of it. And who knows, maybe your impression was all wrong!" 

Such talk might not have been reassuring but it _was_ honest, and Sunsparkle was grateful for that. She knew Moonlight was being honest about "something happening" too, and it worried her. 

Pushing aside her forebodings, Sunsparkle went outside for a walk, breathing in the cleansing freshness of morning as the tense clipping of her hooves slowed to a more leisurely pace. As she moved over the mossy cobblestones she glanced around, searching for the wishing well, but she never came across the flower-wreathed alcove that held it. But then, the gardens were large and unkempt and she didn't know her way around them nearly so well as, say, Wysteria or Rainbow Dash. Still, it was a bit odd . . . 

As she approached the castle again, all thoughts of the gardens were swept away by the marvelous smell of maple syrup and pancakes. Suddenly starving, Sunsparkle all but galloped to the dining room. She drew herself up to a hasty, skidding halt just before the oaken double-doors, pausing to push her mane into place before striding majestically into the dining room. 

Cotton Candy hummed and bustled over a stack of pancakes as Sunsparkle entered and Kimono and Minty sauntered in from another entrance to the room, one that led to the hall leading in turn to the private quarters. Kimono had apparently just finished a shower, as his deep purple hair was slicked back and dripping in straggles and strands, leaving dark blue trails down his blue bathrobe. Or maybe it counted as a kimono, Sunsparkle reflected, since it was worn by a pony with that name. 

"Good morning, Kimmy--KIMONO!" she hastily corrected. Honestly, why were Minty's nicknames so addictive? She would probably be calling Razzaroo "Roo" next. (Actually, Roo sounded . . . kind of cute. But no! Mustn't give in to the nickname side! Bad!) 

"Good morning, Sunsparkle," Kimono returned cordially, with no sign of ire. Nevertheless, Sunsparkle was somewhat confused when Kimono turned to his green-skinned companion and innocently inquired, "Isn't it, 'Int?" 

"Intelligent!" Minty said immediately, leaving Sunsparkle with the distinct feeling that she'd missed something. 

As she looked at the grinning stallion, she leaned closer, noticing something different about him. "Minty, your hair seems . . . lighter?" 

He paused to look over his shoulder, swishing his tail (which was definitely not as pink as it had been) with a pleased expression on his face. "I _knew_ it would work," he said proudly. 

"Oh, your lovely hair," Cotton Candy clucked. "Ah well, it will grow back pink." She either didn't notice or simply ignored Minty's sudden frown as she continued, gaze fondly at all three of them. "Now sit down and I'll serve you up." She bustled them into chairs. Well, Cotton Candy bustled Sunsparkle and Minty anyway, but she only bustled _at_ and _around_ Kimono, unable to penetrate the stallion's air of quiet dignity. 

Sunsparkle was about to ask the purple-haired pony if he had ever come across a wishing well in the gardens when she was distracted by something on the table, something even more mystifying than Sunny Daze's rock. 

"Cotton Candy," the young queen said, staring at the narrow objects lined neatly by each plate, "why the forks?" 

Minty and Kimono, noting that they too had silver utensils as part of their place setting, joined Sunsparkle in staring at Cotton Candy, who gazed back, unperturbed. 

"That's _silverware,_ dear." 

"I know what it _is_," replied Sunsparkle. "But why are they _here?_ We're not elves." 

"No, dear. You're little ponies," Cotton Candy said, smiling in her kind, maddening way. 

"What I mean is . . . the only reason there are forks in the castle is in case something with . . . with FINGERS visits. We can't even pick them up!" She pawed awkwardly at the fork with one hoof to illustrate her point. 

"Oh goodness no, sweetie, ponies don't have _fingers--"_

"I think I'm getting sucrose poisoning from here," Minty whispered to Kimono in a mock-_sotto_ voice. 

"--we pick up things with our _mouths!"_

"Cotton Candy. That's my _point,"_ Sunsparkle gritted, tamping down her frustration. "To use this fork, I'd have to pick it up in my _mouth_, stab the pancake with it, and then . . . I wouldn't be able to _put_ the pancake in my mouth because the OTHER end of the fork would already BE in my mouth, you see?" 

"That's nice, dear," Cotton Candy said vaguely, turning back towards the flat heated stone she was using as a griddle. "Now who wants BLUEBERRY pancakes?" 

"Why's Sunsparkle beating her head against the table?" Rainbow Dash asked in concern when he entered a moment later. He cocked his head towards the table with a puzzled frown. "And why the . . . the . . . " 

"Forks," Minty said through a mouth of richly buttered pancake. "Long story. Sit down." He pushed out a chair, which Rainbow Dash accepted, though he still cast a sidelong look of concern towards Sunsparkle. 

Sweetberry soon arrived, looking at the forks in askance but making no remark. Sunny Daze followed a few minutes later, throwing herself into her seat with such enthusiasm that she nearly knocked over the syrup as her chair jolted against the table. And a few minutes after _that . . . _

"Good morning, everyone!" Wysteria cooed as she and Sparkleworks breezed in, side by side with their necks intertwined to the extent that they practically qualified as a seaman's knot. "And what a BEAUTIFUL morning it is . . . isn't it, Sparkle my love?" 

"It is," he said, gazing at her tenderly. "The sun is shining . . ." 

"The birds are singing . . ." She stared breathlessly up at him. 

"The flowers are blooming . . ." He leaned closer. 

"Everything is so beautiful," Wysteria said, fluttering her eyes. 

"It _is_, my little flowerbud," Sparkleworks said tenderly. "But not as beautiful as _you."_ They paused for a passionate kiss in the middle of the room. 

Sunny Daze raised an eyebrow, flipped her tail, and went back to her pancakes. Sunsparkle subtly rolled her eyes at the display. Rainbow Dash simply blinked. But Minty gave Kimono a significant glance. 

"I _told_ you they wouldn't even make it to the table," the green pony whispered. "Pay up, purple pinto!" 

"Later," Kimono returned, helping himself to more syrup. "And you know very well I'm not a pinto." 

"Close enough." 

"EwwWWWWwww!" Everyone turned to see Pinkie Pie standing in the entrance to the dining room, staring at the lip-locked lovebirds in disbelief. "I can't BELIEVE you're making out in the middle of the DINING ROOM!" 

Wysteria's dazzling green eyes narrowed from wide-eyed sappiness to a death-glare as she swiveled towards Pinkie Pie. "EXCUSE ME?" 

"Wysteria, darling, it doesn't matter what she thinks. It doesn't matter what _anyone_ thinks. All that matters," Sparkleworks said huskily, "is US!" 

"Oh, Sparkleworks!" 

"Oh, Wysteria!" 

"Oh, gag me." Pinkie Pie made a face. 

"Out of the mouths of babes," Sunny Daze smiled. "'Berry? More butter please?" 

The rest of the meal proceeded in relative calm, at least until Minty playfully tried to feed Kimono a forkful of pancakes but ended up jabbing the purple pony in the eye instead. Kimono took it stoically, rubbing the syrup out of his eye as Minty dropped the fork with a clatter and gasped out an apology. 

Of course the mishap pulled Cotton Candy to his side, much as a moth is attracted to a flame. Kimono probably would have staved off her motherly concern successfully had he not been simultaneously beset by anxious questions from Minty ("Are you okay? Are you SURE you're okay? How many hooves am I holding up?") who was also motivated by concern, although not of the motherly variety. 

In the end, the purple-haired stallion surrendered to their demand that he put something cold over his eye. Even then, he wouldn't have agreed if he'd known the cold object they would dig out was a chilled orange. 

Sunsparkle was focusing on the last crumbs on her plate, because she knew that if she looked up and saw the dignified purple stallion holding an orange over his eye with his hoof, she would burst out laughing. As it was, Sunny Daze kept pretending to cough to hide her _own_ giggles and even Sweetberry made a noise suspiciously close to a snicker at one point. 

Sparkleworks and Wysteria, however, were too wrapped up in their kissing session (still in the middle of the room) to notice Kimono or anyone else. Later they would undoubtedly be irritated to find that they'd missed the pancakes completely, but as Sweetberry pointed out, "It's their own fault." 

As Sunsparkle moved around the lip-locked pair to take her dishes to the kitchen, she realized with a twinge of guilt that she was truly looking forward to the point when Sparkleworks and Wysteria came down from their euphoria and settled into their normal routine of nagging, fighting, and petty jealousy. They were just so much more . . . _tolerable _that way. Once they had been passionate and tender towards each other for almost a week and they had driven the other ponies up the wall with their constant adulation of each other and their maddening tendency to begin kissing in doorways and _continue_ kissing while other ponies glared at them and tried to shove past. "I guess that's why it's called love_sick,"_ Moonlight had commented that time, as Sparkleworks told Wysteria that her eyes were like the sun and Pinkie Pie leaned over a flower pot and pretended to vomit . . . 

Having put her dishes in the ceramic sink in the kitchen, Sunsparkle turned to exit and suddenly jumped as Moonlight unexpectedly skidded through the doorway in front of her, as though summoned by her part in the memory. 

"Moonlight! You're awake?" Sunsparkle exclaimed in surprise. "What's wrong?" she added, taking in the peculiar, drawn expression on the blue pony's face. 

"Nothing. Something. I don't know." Moonlight lowered her neck and took a breath. When she raised her head again, she seemed more composed. "Something's happening. Outside. No, no, not _that_ something," she added, seeing Sunsparkle's expression. "At least . . . I don't think so. But . . . well . . . see for yourself." 

She gestured towards a window with lacy white curtains. Sunsparkle set her front hooves on the sill as she pushed it open, letting in a burst of fresh breeze and birdsong. There were two small shadows dancing, circling around the majestic marble steps leading up to the palace. Sunsparkle stared dumbly at the ground for a moment before staring wildly skyward, hardly daring to think what might cast such shadows. 

The sun haloed the two pegasi gliding high above the castle on massive feathered wings. 

  



	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

The one figure might have been mistaken for a bird, with its legs tucked close and forgotten to a body whose only purpose seemed to be to anchor the two perfect, yellow wings that tilted and spread in the wind. But the second pegasus flew in the classic manner, its dazzling white wings beating steadily and rhythmically to match the legs cantering on the empty air. 

As Sunsparkle watched, their wings folded back in perfect unison and they dove, the yellow pegasus with its limbs still held tightly to its chest and the white one with its front legs outstretched. Sunsparkle held her breath, waiting for them to land . . . but with a sudden swoop, the white pegasus dove lower than its fellow, then spread its feathers, catching an updraft. Forced out of its plunge, the yellow pegasus half-opened its own wings and performed a flawless barrel roll. 

They were stallions, judging from their size, Sunsparkle decided, watching as they beat their wings absent-mindedly in the manner of a swimmer treading water, leaning towards one another to share a conversation swept away by the wind. She stared at them with intensity as the wind ruffled their manes and pulled at their tails. Dark pink, yellow, green, and sapphire blue . . . 

"Rainbow ponies," she heard Moonlight whisper in awe from amongst the small group of ponies now crowded in the door. "They are Rainbow ponies." 

_Yes, they are._ Sunsparkle's heart thumped louder. _Ponies born under a rainbow . . . only they would have that hair. They are Rainbow ponies. And that means magic . . . They say even pegasi can have magic if they are true Rainbow ponies. Even earthlings. Could they have come to stay? Oh, please . . . _

The yellow pegasus nodded to something the white one said, tilted his wings, and caught a rush of wind that carried him up, up, up, until he was only a speck in the sky, flying away. 

_No, no!_ Sunsparkle thought desperately as the ponies behind her exchanged dismayed murmurs. _Now the other one will leave as well and we'll be back to the beginning! Oh, we were so _close! 

But the second pegasus did _not_ leave. He fell into a slow descent, extending his wings so that the morning light shone through them, silhouetting each shaft and creating more opaque ovals wherever the feathers overlapped. His tail spread behind him with the colors twisting over each other while his mane flowed from his neck like a banner . . . or a rainbow. Between beats of his wings, Sunsparkle could catch brief glimpses of his symbol. It was gold . . . gold and circular . . . maybe a sun. 

His wings swept upward as he landed, rearing, his hind hooves touching down first and his tail streaming. Sunsparkle scarcely dared to breathe. His symbol was not a sun, but an eight-pointed star. 

She stared at him with open amazement that bordered on rudeness, but the pegasus either did not notice or pretended not to. He glanced about, taking in his surroundings and displaying his profile. He had what Queen Starshadow would have called "an old face", with high cheekbones and a narrow nose that sloped straight down from his forehead, without the gentle, rounded stop found on most ponies. He looked like he had just stepped out of a legend. He _had_ stepped out of the legends, legions of them, all of which Sunsparkle had heard as she sat at her mother's hooves. 

The young queen gathered her wits and closed her mouth, which had somehow fallen open. "Gr-eetings." Her voice skipped in an embarrassing manner and she hastily cleared her throat before going on. "Greetings, Lord Starshine." 

His delicate nostrils quivered ever so slightly. "I am no lord." _Thankfully_, his tone seemed to imply. 

"Oh dear. I'm sorry. No, of course you aren't," Sunsparkle said, her cheeks darkening to an even deeper shade of purple. Of course he wasn't a lord! What was she thinking?? But all the same, the old nursery rhyme ran through her head . . . 

_Starshine white, starshine bright,   
Starshine, lord of all the night._

_But he IS Starshine, anyway,_ she thought in awe. _Not that I believe those silly nursery stories about him! No one is older than the sun . . ._

"May the Rainbow of Light illuminate your path," he said after a few minutes of awkward silence, bobbing his head at the word "Rainbow." 

Sunsparkle realized she was gaping again and snapped her jaw shut. "And may it guide your way," she returned automatically. Introductions, she thought. Introductions. "Starshine, I welcome you to our humble fief. Our shelter is your shelter, our drink is your drink." You would think the greeting would mention food, but ponies often felt drink was the more important aspect. "I am Sunsparkle, queen of Ponyville." 

Starshine's head tilted, his eyes narrowing slightly. _"You?"_ he demanded. "Ponyville," he added in a disbelieving undertone. 

"Y-yes . . . You see . . ." Sunsparkle faltered. _You see, my mother named it Ponyville. You see, there was this horrible plague. You see, everyone died and I was the only one left and I _did_ lead as best I could, and I can't help being young . . ._ It all flashed through her head, but she stood mutely, caught in the pegasus' cold blue eyes. 

And Minty saved the day. 

"Your majesty?" 

Sunsparkle turned to the green pony in a daze, only to discover that he had pushed his way out of the huddle of spectators by the door and now stood with his head bowed so low that his nose nearly touched the ground. 

"Shall I lay an extra setting for our guest?" Minty asked deferentially. 

"That would be wonderful, Minty," she replied, feeling a sudden rush of gratitude towards him. "Please do so." 

The green stallion sank down on one knee, a little awkwardly, then stood and trotted off, presumably to set the table. 

"Your majesty?" This time it was Kimono, of all ponies. "Shall I lay out a sleeping pallet for our guest?" 

"That would be exellent, Kimono." A sleeping pallet? She wasn't even sure if they had any spare bedrooms--clean ones, anyway. Oh well. "And don't forget to use our _finest_ linens." 

"Yes, my queen," Kimono replied in a servile tone, sinking into a bow, like Minty . . . only much more graceful. 

The other ponies quickly followed suit, a situation which filled Sunsparkle with both embarrasment and gratitude, though she hid both emotions as best she could. Starshine watched with his head cocked, assessing. Perhaps he was reconsidering the situation. Then again, perhaps he was wondering why the last pony to leave, Pinkie Pie, had asked Sunsparkle if she could "polish the forks." There weren't any useful chores left to ask for by that point. 

"I hope you will find everything satisfactory during your visit," she told Starshine as Pinkie Pie hurried away. "Please do stay as long as you wish." 

"Only for one night," he said. 

Her heart sank. He wasn't going to stay. He had never intended to. "But you've come so far," she said uncertainly. 

He shrugged with his wings. "I am always traveling." He clipped up the steps towards the castle, then looked back at Sunsparkle, who was hurrying after him. 

"Mainly," Starshine added, "I come here with a warning." And with a flick of his rainbow tail, he strode through the door. 

_Just what we need,_ Sunsparkle thought. _More trouble._

~*~*~*~ 

  
Author's notes: 

I just wanted to note that G1 ponies in general are not "bygone" at this point of time. Fizzy, Firefly, and the others are still happily living in Dream Valley and the G3 ponies in Ponyville are simply a slightly smaller type of pony--not even a separate breed, really. 

Starshine is considered extraordinary because he's extremely old compared to everyone else, G1 and G3 alike . . . not _just_ because he's a G1. ^_~ 


End file.
